Life, Death and Tears
by TwilightLoverMangaAddict
Summary: A series of Harry Potter one-shots. Most of them are sad. Rated T for describing deaths. AU
1. The Bank

**A/N I've always wanted to kill a character, the one who was the narrator, and then, one day during swimming at school, I thought of this. This is the first in a series of Harry Potter oneshots. Some will be canon with the original story, some won't, but I'm using this as a writing exercise. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  
**

This wasn't how I was supposed to die. Yet, here I was, crumpled on the bank floor with a thick red liquid that I knew was blood dripping down my my side. Why? I asked myself.

Life is hard. A never ending struggle to identify right from wrong and good from bad. A futile attempt to make sure everyone else had what they wanted and needed while searching for your own happily ever after. Love and loss. Sadness, helplessness, weakness. Life is a curse that blesses you with the chance to find happiness, challenging you almost to your breaking point through the search.

And then you die. Death is easy. It's almost too easy to just give up. To stop trying. Death gives you a break from the frantic struggle that is everyday life. But it also means that you can do nothing more. I was dying.

My life flashed spasmodically before my eyes. From when I was only three years old to when I mistakenly cast my first spell. My first day at Hogwarts where my brother managed to crash the family car into the Whomping Willow. The second war with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Lord Voldemort, finding Fred dead by the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. Last year, when my love finally asked me to marry him. And today.

The past five minutes were especially clear. Everything had gone too fast for me to comprehend as it was happening, but now, after wards, it was all crystal clear. Coming to the bank to pick up Muggle money had been a bad idea. But how were we to know that there would be an armed robbery just as we were coming in.

Lock down. We'd only taken two steps in the door when bars slammed closed over the windows and covered the only exit. We heard a woman's scream and Harry instinctively pointed his wand at the men with ski masks.

"No, Harry!" I hissed. "We can't use magic right now. Not with all these witnesses. Think of the trouble we'd be in, the memory reversal spells." He growled at the intruders but shoved the wand back in his pocket. The shorter robber grinned maniacally and pointed a gun at the youngest bank teller.

"Don't hurt me," she whimpered. The woman- Tracy, her badge said- was barely more than a girl, certainly no older than nineteen. Her curly black hair came down to her waist, her blue eyes filled with fear. "Please, don't shoot me. My daughter's waiting for me to pick her up from the day care center." The man cocked the gun and flicked his wrist upward, shooting a bullet into the wall behind Tracy. Shattered glass exploded behind the counter.

All of a sudden, a cell phone that I recognized as Harry's was flying through the air, landing squarely on the back of the man's head and knocking him out. The gun skidded across the floor straight to the other, bigger man.

"You're gonna regret that," he snarled. Having taken care of the one man, Harry had moved on to the woman cradling her little girl by the wall in an attempt to calm them, and didn't notice the gun being pointed at him.

"Harry, look out!" I screamed. There was a small explosion as the bullet rocketed out of the gun, on a direct course for my husband. I didn't have time to think and only barely enough to react, throwing myself between the man and my love.

Not him. He couldn't kill Harry. Harry is the idol to every man, woman and child in the wizarding world. He's my husband, my one and only love. The only way anyone would harm him would be over my cold, dead body.

A sharp pain hit my chest as I was flying through the air. Suddenly, every breath pained me, and I was only getting half the air I needed.

"You killed her!" Harry snapped. "You killed my wife!"

"Harry," I breathed. "I'm not dead yet." Coughs racked my small frame, blood streaming up my throat. I wasn't quite dead, but I could tell that within minutes, my life would be gone.

"I'll fix you, Ginny," he promised. "I'll get you to St. Mundo's."

"I'm not going to live through this, Love."

"Don't say that! You will!"

"No I won't." As if to prove my point, I coughed up a mouthful of blood again. "There's no way to fix this. I think- I think it's my lung. I can't breathe right. But I love you, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'll never-" I was interrupted by another blood-spewing spasm, "I'll always love you."

"Don't talk like that! You'll survive! You will! You have to!"

"I love you." I closed my eyes. The bright fluorescent lights were hurting my head.

"You can't die yet!" he yelled. "I'll do anything to keep you alive!"

"There's nothing you can do, Harry. I'm so sorry. I'll be gone, but I'll be waiting for you," I whispered, trying to comfort him.

"Don't die, Ginny."

"It's my time, Love. I'm sorry."

"Is this really goodbye?" he asked sorrowfully.

"Not goodbye," I said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Just 'so long' or 'until we meet again'. You'll see me again. Just like you'll see your parents. I'll tell them you said hi."

"I love you, Ginny." Harry leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my bloody lips. I closed my eyes. "No! Don't die yet! I don't want this to be goodbye!"

"I'm just going to sleep, Harry," I comforted. "I love you." As I lay there, blood spilling from my chest and mouth, dripping from my side into a puddle on the floor, I felt the life seeping away from me. Just as there was only a single drop of life in me, I heard Harry whisper in my ear.

"Goodnight, Love."

* * *

**A/N**

**Aww, how sweet. **

**What do you think? Good? Bad? Ugly**

**Review!**

**TLMA  
**


	2. Nine

**A/N This is the second in my HP one-shot series. This is crying in the rain. Hope you like it**

**Disclaimer; Do you really think that I own the Harry Potter series?  
**

Nine years.

Nine years old.

I was only nine years old. It was my birthday. I heard a loud bang from the shed outside and my eyes shot open. I wasn't supposed to fall asleep, but the gentle drizzle had put me to sleep.

"Mummy? Daddy?" No one answered. I pulled my feet off the pillow and swung them out of bed, sliding them into my slippers, one a green bunny and the other a purple bear. I padded down thetairs and swung into the kitchen. Dad was just coming through the back door and met me at the table.

"Go back to bed, Luna," he commanded.

"No. What was that noise?"

"Luna! Go back to bed!"

"What was that, Dad? What happened!" A small choked sound came from both of our throats. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he whispered, closing his eyes. My throat closed up completely; I immediately assummed the worst. One look at Dad's face was all it took to confirm my fears. He was always cheery, grinning and laughing. The wrinkles on his forehead were laugh lines, rather than from frowns. But right now, he looked almost dead. His eyes were a dull grey rather than the icy blue both of ours usually were.

There had always been risks for her, but nothing worse than a few small burns had ever occurred. Sometimes, she even let me sit in the shed with her while she worked. But not today. Instead of letting me sit with her after supper, she sent me to bed, saying she'd be up in a few minutes.

That can't be it. It can't be, I tried to tell myself. It must be something else. Despite my fabricated reasoning, I couldn't help the trickle of tears coming from my eyes. I ran under Dad's arm. My feet made small puddles in the ground that quickly filled with mud as I reached for the shed door.

"Stop!" A shaky hand clutched my wrist, yanking my arm and pulling me to a stop just inches from the handle. "You don't want to go in there." Dad shook with silent sobs and I thrashed around furiously.

"No!" I screamed, trying to break free of his iron grasp. "It isn't true!" My cornsilk blonde hair slipped out of the sloppy pigtails they were in and whipped around my face. With my one free hand, I grabbed my hair, pulling it in frustration and twisting my arm around so my elbow was on the opposite side of my chest, trying to stop the hole that had begun forming. "She wouldn't leave us!"

I felt Dad's grip loosen slightly and my eyes shot up to meet his. The rain wasn't the only water streaming down my face. I took his instant of weakness to lurch for the door, slipping on something on the floor. I landed in a puddle of dark, sticky liquid that smelled of rusty iron.

"Hello?" I crawled forward slowly, into the light of the only candle in the room and found that my hands and pajamas were stained red.

Blood. It was splattered everywhere. The walls were coated with a layer of it, occasional lumps of something that I wasn't sure if I wanted to know what hanging to the shelves and lanterns. Drops of blood fell from the ceiling above the puddle I'd landed in. Every beaker and test tube was smashed, shattered glass dotted with crimson. A thin stick of wood was damp with the owner's blood and sat on the only intact table. Hanging delicately on the chair was a clump of singed, blonde hair.

It was true. She was gone. Forever. Never to kiss me goodnight again. Never to help me plan parties that only the Weasleys would come to. Never to test spells again. I would never see her smile at the breakfast I made and burned ever again. She would never read me any of Beedle the Bard's stories before bed again. The door creaked open more than it already was.

Dad stood at the opening, his light brown hair plastered to his forehead. "Luna," he whispered. "Please, Luna, come back inside. Go back to bed." The tears that should have come froze. My feet moved forward on their own accord, trying to force me to his waiting arms. At the last instant, just before they wrapped around me, I swung to the left, bolting from the yard over the swampy hills.

I didn't know where I was going or what I was planning on doing when I got there, but I continued running. My feet sloshed through the muddy water, every so often getting stuck in the heavy dirt.

"Luna! Luna!" I was too frozen to listen to my Dad. "Come back!" I didn't answer him but a small silver whale swam through the air past me, humming loudly. It sounded like, "Arthur, Molly, Luna's run off. She's headed towards you. She's upset." I couldn't hear the rest of the the message Daddy was sending to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley through the patronus.

"No," I whimpered, reaching for the whale just as it disappeared. Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Distracted, I slowed, feet sticking in the heavy mud. Spinning my arms in tight circles in a feeble attempt to remain upright and failing miserably, I landed face first in the mud, and didn't bother to get up.

A crash of thunder closely followed the bright flash of lightning burned into my retinas. I didn't move from my place, curled up in the soaked dirt. I was frozen, completely unable to think, move, or even cry, despite the lump in my throat. The rain pounded on me, hammering me further into the ground. I nearly drowned, spluttering and coughing up mud.

"Luna!" someone called. "Luna, is that you?" I rolled over onto my back, laying limply when the figures hovered over me.

"Mrs. Weasley? Ginny?"

"Thank goodness you're fine! When your father sent the patronus, we were worried sick. Of course we came out to find you!" Mrs. Weasly explained. "Come! Come!"

I stood slowly, not registering anything around me. As I got to my feet, my hair draped around my face, hiding my eyes. I had loved and lost, and never wanted it to happen again.

"Luna? Luna, are you okay?" Ginny asked me quietly. Our eyes locked and I saw my past self in her. We were the same age, but I felt that I'd aged a millenia in the past ten minutes.

"Nine years old is too young to lose someone you love."

Nine years.

Nine years old.

I was only nine years old. That was the day my mother died.

* * *

**A/N So sad. I think this is why Luna started getting weird, so in my mind, she was completely normal before her ninth birthday.**

**Whadaya think?**

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**Review please!**

**TLMA  
**


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